“Did he create it?” Azh demanded.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so, but I was wearing the medallion while I was being burned. I could feel it melting into my skin, so that means I had it while I was still human.”
“Then the corruption must have placed some sort of tracking spell on it while you were in the pit.” Azh hesitated, as if struck by a sudden thought. “But if it had, why did it take so long to track you?”
Wynn shrugged. “I’m more concerned why it decided to track me at all,” she said. “It implied that I had something it wanted.”
“How do you imagine Axton can help?”
“This medallion is a clue to who I was and where I came from. There was a reason Axton bought it and why he kept it for two centuries.”
He studied her for a long moment before giving a slow nod of his head. “You’re right,” he agreed. “For now, rest. I’ll wake you when we reach London.”
With a grateful sigh, Wynn closed her eyes and sank back into the soft leather seat. She could sense the effort it took Azh not to continue badgering her for answers about her encounter with Gabriela. It wasn’t just his fascination with the legendary dragon. He was desperate to understand the danger to his people and how to protect them. For now, however, he put her needs above his own, pulling her close as she allowed the bone-deep exhaustion to claim her.
It felt like minutes passed, although it had to be a solid two hours, when she heard the muffled sounds of the city penetrating the hushed interior of the limo. With an effort, she forced open her eyes.
“Tell the driver to drop us off in Hackney,” she croaked, pushing herself out of the comfort of Azh’s arms.
Azh relayed the command, remaining silent as she struggled to clear the cobwebs from her brain.
It was still early, but the sun was up as they reached Mare Street. The neighborhood was an odd combination of old squat houses in the process of being restored by investors and colorful street fronts. There were dozens of trendy nightclubs that catered to the flocks of tourists who arrived in waves during the evenings as well as less well-known pubs that were the sole domain of the local demons.
The limo swerved to park next to the sidewalk, barely waiting for them to climb out before it was zooming away. Obviously Saxton had ordered the driver to deliver them to London, but that was the end of his duty. He made it clear he wanted to be far away from them.
Fair enough,Wynn silently conceded, glancing around the empty streets. She attracted enemies at a dizzying speed. If she didn’t have to, she wouldn’t want to spend any time around her either.
“Does Axton have a lair near here?” Azh demanded.
Wynn reached up to comb her fingers through her hair before quickly returning it to its usual braid. This area wasn’t for the faint-hearted. Even in the morning hours.
“No, but if a demon wants to disappear in London this is the place to go.”
Azh glanced around in confusion. “This looks like any other street in the city. Is there something special about it?”
Wynn glanced toward a nearby building where she could see the outline of a fairy in the upper window. She knew from experience he would be holding a crossbow pointed at her heart.
“The Vasiliki control Hackney. They’re a powerful fey clan who’ve made a fortune by providing safe rooms for demons who need to disappear. Once you’ve paid their outrageous fee, they promise that no one will be able to track you to your hidden location.”
“What if whoever is hunting them agrees to pay more to find them?”
“It’s happened,” Wynn admitted. “That’s why they perform a public execution of any servant who is stupid enough to share more information than they should, just to remind everyone in the neighborhood to keep their mouths shut. Whether they’re on the payroll or not. It’s usually some sort of gory curse or a disembowelment that involves a lot of screaming.”
Azh arched a brow. Was he shocked by her indifference to such gruesome tortures? If so it was probably best he realized she might have been invited to sophisticated parties, but she spent most of her life in the sewers with the rats.
“Have you used their service?” he demanded.
“More than once.” With a shrug, she led him down the street, turning into a narrow alley that smelled like piss. “And since I’ve never trusted anyone, I made sure I had several escape routes prepared just in case.”
“Of course you did,” he said dryly.
Wynn paused as they reached the end of the alley, lifting her hand to press it against the brick wall in front of them.
“I’m hoping they’re still protected by my magic.”
Azh moved to stand next to her, the ground trembling as he allowed a portion of his off-the-charts magic to leak through his shields.
“If not I can find a way through the barriers.”
